Flagging Interest
by Asterisk78
Summary: The problems with Resolute include character death, plot holes, paper men, and out of cannon performances...and this is the place to mock them! This week: It seemed to Storm Shadow that Snake Eyes's flashback was a little biased...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: If GI Joe were mine, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction. 'Nuff said.

Bazooka shivered as he passed through the shadows of the Skystrikers. It wasn't that he regretted going to that ghost story thing last night…well, perhaps he did regret going. It had been fun until Stalker and Snake Eyes had told that story about the Ghost Ninja.

Although the story was not terribly frightening, it had stuck with Bazooka like the half-forgotten melody of a song, replayed so many times that parts of it were warped and twisted into something different and more sinister.

Now, Bazooka could almost feel the chill breath of the grave on the back of his neck, could almost see the ghostly forms of undead ninja as they flitted through the blue-black shadows of the night. He felt the cold hand of irrational fear clench his stomach. Then, suddenly in the distance, a flash of white caught his eye and imagination. There was something out there. Unquestionably, undeniably, he was not alone in the night.

Bazooka felt the cold hand of irrational fear finger the back of his neck, ever so gently. Then, slowly, the grip became harder, harder, harder…

Bazooka was paralyzed. He stood there, watching the interplay of the light and shadow without appreciation for its beauty. The moment passed like the dying breath of a sigh, and he continued on his way.

But the looming shadows would not release their hold on him. As he continued on his way through the shadows of the planes, another hand caught hold of him. A hard hand, warm and dry, yet frighteningly strong, and oh-so-insistent…

Bazooka froze. White-wrapped arm leading to a hand, a hand too strong for any human, bleached pale by the fluorescent lights and keeping a death grip on his arm. He fell, struck down without a mark on him…

Externally, that is.

Storm Shadow looked quizzically at the fallen body of the Joe. Yes, he knew he was intimidating, but this was certainly the first man that he had ever scared to death. He nudged the man gently with the toe of his boot. Still dead. Yes, this was definitely a first.

A dark figure ghosted up next to him. "Go away, Snake Eyes," Storm Shadow said. "I'm not interested in fighting."

"I'm not Snake Eyes," the figure replied. "I'm Death. Nice going, by the way."

"I didn't mean to kill him," Storm Shadow said. "I just wanted to get him to take something to Snake Eyes-"

"What is it?" Death asked.

"A note," Storm Shadow said.

"Just stick it in his mouth and be done with it," Death said.

Storm Shadow obliged, figuring it might not be a good idea to toy with Death. When he was done, Storm Shadow turned back to Death, who was watching him in a distinctly predatory manner. "Um, why are you staring at me?" Storm Shadow asked.

"Because you're going to die soon," Death said.

"Me?" Storm Shadow asked.

"Yes. You," Death said. "I was thinking how much I like killing young men, especially prime physical specimens like yourself…it's a great way to remind Life that no matter how hard he tries, he can never win."

"Why am I going to die?" Storm Shadow asked, slightly perturbed that his last hours were upon him.

"My dear Tommy, it's the precise same reason that Bazooka died," Death said, patronizing and cold. "It's because the Great Author doesn't fully understand your character, and therefore is going to kill you off to make GI Joe more edgy."

"But why?" Storm Shadow asked. "Why can't we kill off someone that everyone loves to hate, like Destro?"

Death sighed. "Look, I'm a lot like you. I just do my job and don't ask questions. Now, drag that body somewhere else."

Storm Shadow took up Bazooka, and dragged him to a little-used corner of the hangar deck. When he looked up, Death was gone. After tentatively chalking up his vision to sleep deprivation, Storm Shadow checked the time. There was a transport waiting for him. He smiled. Never before had he been more glad to leave a place.


	2. Chapter 2

Cobra Commander paced in front of the chained and beaten figure of Sebastian Bludd. "I trusted you, Bludd. I trusted you, and you let me down."

"Commander, I can explain-"

"How do you think that makes me feel, Bludd?" Cobra Commander asked.

Bludd thought a moment. "Uh…betrayed?"

"And if you had been betrayed, dear S.B., what would you do?" Cobra Commander asked.

Bludd didn't answer.

"I think you know what I like to do when I'm betrayed, Bludd," Cobra Commander said. "I like to torture people. I think you may have figured that out by now."

"Yes," Bludd said, wincing.

"Needless to say, you won't be needing a manicure for a while," the Commander said. "But since finger and toenails don't contain a lot of live tissue, I imagine you won't miss them that much."

Bludd said nothing. He reasoned that whatever he said, whatever he did, would only result in more pain. Besides, the Commander was still having his little monologue, and Bludd's mother had always said that it was impolite to interrupt.

"But I felt that my methodology was getting a bit…_rusty_," the Commander said. "So, I decided to ask my lovely bodyguard what _he_ would do if he caught a traitor. Storm Shadow put some time into his answer, but eventually said that he would just stab the man through the heart. I asked him why. He replied that it was more humane than allowing them to simply bleed out through their stomach, but less so than a beheading…so I decided I might put that to the test."

Bludd looked up at the Commander in horror. "You're going to kill me?" he asked.

"Hush, Bludd. There's more." The Commander stalked back and forth like some predatory animal. "Then, I asked Destro what _he_ would do if he caught a traitor. My favorite business magnate replied that he would humiliate the traitor in front of people who might betray him. Baroness, who was butting in per usual her normal behavior, said that she would probably have him killed and abandon his body somewhere that would offend the Americans.

"I slept on it. As I dreamed, the answer hit me. Can you guess what the answer was, Bludd?"

Bludd thought a moment. "Did you decide not to kill me?" he asked.

"No! I decided to do all _three_ of them!" Cobra Commander crowed. "Isn't that funny, Bludd? Isn't that just a hoot?"

"Er, not really," Bludd said.

"Of course, Bludd, of course," Cobra Commander said. "You and your nonexistent sense of humor. What a killjoy."

Bludd said nothing as Cobra Commander called in the Vipers. He watched miserably as Cobra Commander had another long, psychotic monologue, and wondered if the Commander realized how odd he looked. Finally, the Commander turned back to him.

"Any last words, Bludd?" Cobra Commander asked.

"Yankees forever," Bludd said fiercely, eyes searching for the spot on Cobra Commander's inhuman mask that might betray where his eyes were. Cobra Commander drew back his arm, and stabbed Bludd with a carelessness that would have done Heath Ledger's Joker proud. As Bludd fell to the cold marble dais with a sickening thump, Storm Shadow, who had been standing by, frowned slightly.

"You know, Commander, this makes me uneasy," he said.

"Really? You're a Red Sox fan too, though. I'm sure you understand," Cobra Commander said.

"No, I don't object to that," Storm Shadow said. "It just feels like his death was wasted, somehow."

"Really?" Cobra Commander asked.

"He's a power player, Commander. I know that it keeps the Vipers quiet, but there will be factions of the populace that will be disquieted," Storm Shadow said.

The Commander sighed. "Well, what's done is done. Besides, it's scary to stab people over sports rivalries, right?"

Storm Shadow said nothing, although in his personal opinion, there could be very little that was edgy about terrorists who destroyed the world in costume and could have voice acted for Sesame Street.


	3. Chapter 3

"Duke, I don't understand why you think I can conduct an autopsy with an audience," Doc said.

"I can't believe they killed Bazooka," Duke said, ignoring Doc completely. "And without a mark on him. How did they do it? _Why_ did they do it? What does it _mean_?"

"Seriously, guys. If I'm going to figure out how he died, you have to suit up or leave," Doc said.

"There's something in his mouth," Scarlett said. "Ew. That's, like, so totally _gross_."

"Duke? Can you even hear me?" Doc asked.

"I…I just don't understand," Duke said. He concentrated for a moment, squinching his eyes closed, then frowned. "Scarlett, hand me those saline drops. I need to get appropriately teary-eyed."

Doc shrugged, and pulled the roll of paper from Bazooka's mouth.

_Apparently Bazooka's weed packed a punch_, Snake Eyes remarked.

"I don't think it's weed, Snakes. On the other hand, toxicology might not be a bad idea. Unfortunately, toxicology would require you all to leave. Now." Doc waited, but still, no one heard him. Finally, he just left. Obviously, his job was done.

"Look. It's a secret message from Storm Shadow," Scarlett said.

_He could have just texted_, Snake Eyes said. He grabbed the paper, and shone his super-special-secret flashlight on it. Tommy wanted to meet him on the island…just like always.

"I know what happens next, Snake Eyes," Duke said.

_But I haven't even told you anything yet. That means that either you have ESP…or this has happened before_, Snake Eyes said. _But if Tommy just killed a Joe every time he needed to deliver a message to me, we'd have a lot of dead bodies on our hands…explain yourself._

"The Author is just disgusted by all your unnecessary ninja battles, and made a sort of Freudian slip when they were writing our dialogue," Duke said.

_So, I guess I'll just go fight Tommy_, Snake Eyes said. _Guess how much animation money _I'm_ about to waste!_

"And Scarlett, you have to choose. Now," Duke said.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Oh, okay then. Vanilla," Scarlett replied.

"That's not what I meant," Duke said.

"Picard?" Scarlett asked. "I mean, I always liked Kirk, but really, Q pushed me over the edge-"

"No. It's more important than _that_," Duke said.

"Oh, I know what you mean," Scarlett said. "Then I pick All State. That way, I know that I'm in good hands."

"Like my hands?" Duke asked.

"You're so silly," Scarlett said, winking ferociously. "Now, what do you really mean?"

"Choose me or Snake Eyes, now."

"I choose _both_ of you!" Scarlett said, smiling infectiously. "Now, let's get down to business on Bazooka – where's Doc?"

"No, Scarlett, pick _now_," Duke insisted. "The fans want some clear-cut answers."

"But I don't _want_ to choose now," Scarlett said, slightly confused.

"I'm making you," Duke said.

"Why are you forcing me to choose which one of you I want a serious relationship with in the middle of an international crisis?" Scarlett asked. "And, as a matter of fact, why is this your decision? This is my choice alone, and it seems patronizingly sexist to imply that I can't decide whom I want to be romantically entangled with. So, I ask you again…why are you making me choose?"

"Because it's obvious that your indecisive female brain just can't make that decision," Duke said. "I'm not being sexist…I'm your knight in shining armor, saving you from the muddled depths of the inferior female intellect."

Scarlett frowned. "I may be portrayed as a slightly shallow and ditzy character right now, but I'm an independent, intelligent career woman in the real canon. So, Duke, why wouldn't I chafe at your alternately chauvinist or sexual motivations for making me choose between you and Snake Eyes?"

"Because you're a woman who's written by a man," Duke said. "Women written by men tend to be a little more, eh, _old-fashioned_ in their thinking, just like how men written by women tend to be exceptionally sensitive and romantic."

Scarlett considered this for a moment. "So, let me get this straight…I'm supposed to fall into your arms because you're being 'strong and decisive' instead of 'sexist and overbearing'?"

"That's right," Duke said. "So, what's your choice, little girl?"

Scarlett's face adapted an enamored, nay, _brainwashed_ look as she stared at Duke's face. "Oh, all the testosterone has just stolen my tiny and easily-influenced brain," Scarlett murmured, jaw dropping open.

Snake Eyes stared at the scene in disgust. _Shana, what are you _doing?! he asked. _Where's the woman who faked her death in a minefield with me?_

"The past is gone, Snake Eyes," Scarlett said, continuing to stare at Duke's face. "That Scarlett went with it."

Snake Eyes turned and walked away, mind focused on the safety of the hypersonic transport. He hoped that there, at least, he could mope in solitude.

* * *

A/N: I'm not against Duke/Scarlett pairings. It's simply that their relationship was portrayed in such an unhealthy (?) light in _Resolute_ that I felt a little feminist critique was necessary. I will now get off my soap box.


	4. Chapter 4

As it flew over the island, the hatch opened on the hypersonic transport. The force of the wind rushing inside caused the entire plane to explode, engulfing Snake Eyes and the unfortunate flight crew in flames.

Once again, foiled by physics.

* * *

Let's try that again.

As it flew over the island, the hatch opened on the hypersonic transport. The force of the wind rushing inside was immense, but somehow, amazingly, the craft survived. Snake Eyes ran for the hatch, hurling himself into the abyss. Buffeted by the wind, Snake Eyes plunged through the air.

Although air friction did slow his fall some, the distance from which he was falling exacerbated the fact that Snake Eyes was still travelling approximately the speed of sound. Unable to open his parachute in time, Snake Eyes was knocked unconscious by his impact with the ocean surface. Bereft of any floatation device, well, I'll leave the rest to your imaginations.

* * *

One more time, shall we?

As his hypersonic transport flew over the island, Snake Eyes defied the laws of nature and made it safely into the air. However, because the plane was flying _away_ from the island, when Snake Eyes jumped, he fell through the air away from the island, eventually landing somewhere out at sea.

Cursing his bad luck, he began to swim.

* * *

"You be careful down there, Vern," Storm Shadow said. "Snake Eyes doesn't pull punches."

"With all due respect, Storm Shadow, you've said yourself that Snake Eyes isn't the kind of guy that kills Vipers for kicks," Vern replied.

"I know. Still…even Snake Eyes has bad days," Storm Shadow said.

"I'll be fine," Vern said. "It's not like he's a cold-blooded killer who spends his time thinking of slightly perverse ways to kill people."

"Yeah, I was always the psychopathic one growing up," Storm Shadow said.

Vern laughed. "Well, then I don't have much to worry about, do I?"

"According to the Author, actually, you might," Storm Shadow said. "In this cartoon, I'm about two steps above a serial killer."

"You've murdered a total of two people so far," Vern said. "Cobra Commander is still ahead of you by 9, 999,998 some people. Plus, you're a trained assassin. It makes sense that you would kill people. Heck, in a world without Cobra, Snake Eyes would probably be killing people too."

Storm Shadow sighed. "But I'm still written like a sociopath."

Vern patted the other man comfortingly on the shoulder. "That's okay. I've always just been a faceless storm trooper with amazingly terrible aim. I've _never_ gotten any character development."

Storm Shadow smiled ruefully. "Well, I suppose you should get down there and I should be thankful for the depth that I used to have."

Vern nodded, and walked down the irrationally long set of stairs to the beach. As Storm Shadow watched Vern move further and further down the mountain, he mused that the whole thing looked a lot more similar to _Kung Fu Panda_ than he remembered.

* * *

Snake Eyes came up on the beach sputtering. As he stood, he switched on his night vision goggles and looked around. No Vipers yet…time to start walking.

Or, better yet, time to start stewing about Scarlett.

He had loved her longer than he could remember. Although he had only met her with the induction of the GI Joe team, it had always felt to Snake Eyes as though he had loved her before, for there was something all-too-familiar in the leafy eyes and russet hair. But it felt wrong, very wrong, at least this time around. For this was not the woman he felt he'd known lifetimes ago. This woman was so plastic, so flat…

Yet he couldn't stay away from her.

He knew he was playing with fire. He knew that the cards were stacked against him, that his love was doomed…yet he couldn't help but want her. Was it fate? Was it destiny? Or was it just bad writing?

He guessed he would probably never know. But he couldn't help but feel _frustrated_, knowing that his devotion to Scarlett was just a paper man created to appease the fans of the original comics series who would have been miffed if their relationship hadn't at least been acknowledged. It was equally as frustrating to know that the fact that Scarlett had chosen Duke was the direct result of those Sunbow cartoons…

_Curse you, Sunbow!_ Snake Eyes screamed silently to the unfeeling night. _Curse you and your inability to have a mute character in a cartoon!_

And just thinking about Sunbow, about Scarlett, about Duke, about the _unfairness_ of it all…

It made him so _mad_.

However, Snake Eyes didn't know quite how mad it made him until he realized that he'd just killed six Vipers. Maybe he should go in for that anger management class that Flint had recommended…

* * *

Storm Shadow watched, perturbed, from a perch located a convenient distance away. "I wonder, then, if I'm still the violent one," he murmured.


	5. Chapter 5

"Something terrible has happened in Moscow," Duke announced.

"No way!" someone in the back said. "It's not like we all just saw it blow up in the first episode!"

"Look, I was just restating it so I could clarify that it wasn't a nuke," Duke said, glaring at the darkness behind the crowd of Joes.

"Wait…Cobra did that?" Flint asked. "Without a nuke? Why couldn't these people just make it easy and use a nuke?"

"Because it's so much cooler to invent fake technology and completely ignore the perfectly good city-destroying capabilities we have now," Scarlett said.

"But…that makes no sense…"

"The point is that 10 million people are dead, and it's Cobra's fault, so we finally got UN approval to, eh, _terminate_ them," Duke said.

"Finally. It only took them twenty years," Flint muttered.

"If it had been my call, I would have traveled back in time and killed Cobra Commander," Duke said. "But then someone in Legal said that _Terminator_ already took that plot, so we have to be happy with just bombing them back into the Stone Age. Great timing too, considering this is the greatest threat they've ever posed."

"You know, considering the fact that you've been able to keep these terrorists a secret for quite some time indicates that they aren't much of a threat," said the same person in the back. "Look, if they'd actually done anything threatening, the entire world would be all over it. Think UN coalitions, Duke."

"Who are you?" Duke asked.

"I'm the Devil's Advocate," the person in the back replied. "I'm here to say all the snarky things that it would be out of character for other people to say."

"We don't need oversight," Duke said.

The Devil's Advocate just cackled in reply.

"Getting back to business, this must have been planned extensively," Duke said. "It's the only explanation for the fact that they managed to pull this operation off so smoothly."

"Are you sure we weren't just uber-clueless?" Flint asked.

"You know, I considered that," Duke said. "I mean, for Cobra to pull this off, we somehow allowed them to take over the HAARP installation, mess around with an active nuclear missile silo, and take over a mid-sized Midwestern town…no, those were all just honest mistakes."

"Don't forget their greatest crime," Cover Girl said.

"What?" Duke asked.

"Killin' Bazooka," she said.

"Would you like to elaborate on that, Cover Girl?" Duke asked.

"No. My cameo is over," she said.

"Wait a minute…why do we care so much that Bazooka died, but we barely skimmed over the fact that there are 10 million people dead in Russia?" Scarlett asked.

"Because we don't care about civilians, Shana Banana," Duke said. "We just care when one of our own dies. Those 10 million people…they were just collateral damage."

"Oh, Con-Con, you're so comforting," Scarlett said. "Hold me."

"Okay," Duke said. "Hey, guys, I'm going to be, uh, _busy_ for a while. Go harass the support staff so we can figure out what's going on."

Duke and Scarlett made a hasty get away, and the rest of the team descended into the bowels of the Flagg.

* * *

"So, do we have any answers?" Flint asked. "We've got to know what's going on!"

"Yeah, well, while you guys were having your little inspirational debriefing, we figured out what happened," the techie said. "Someone made a human sacrifice to the Gods of Fake Technology, and the gods subsequently gifted them with a Particle Cannon and a super-charged HAARP facility."

"Who did they sacrifice?" Flint asked, shocked.

"A diminutive little man, a hold-over from another era. He went by R. Dignity," the techie replied.

"Oh," Flint said. "That's really too bad."

"Wait, you said super-charged HAARP facility?" Gung-Ho asked. "Why couldn't they just use a normal HAARP facility?"

"Because the regular HAARP facility isn't that powerful," the techie said. "Here, I have some quotes directly from the HAARP website that might be handy. I underlined the important stuff."

The techie handed Gung-Ho a printout, and returned to her game of Solitaire. Flint looked down, and began to read.

"**How long do the effects of ionospheric heating last?**

"Since the ionosphere is, inherently, a turbulent medium that is being both "stirred up" and renewed by the sun, artificially induced effects are quickly obliterated. Depending on the height within the ionosphere where the effect is originally produced, these effects are no longer detectable after times ranging from less than a second to ten minutes.

"A good analogy to this process is dropping a stone into a fast moving stream. The ripples caused by the stone are very quickly lost in the rapidly moving water and, a little farther down the stream, are completely undetectable. A University of Alaska, Geophysical Institute scientist has compared HAARP to an "immersion heater in the Yukon River."

"**Can HAARP create a hole in the ionosphere?**

"No. Any effects produced by HAARP are miniscule compared with the natural day-night variations that occur in the ionosphere. Several ionospheric layers completely disappear naturally over a whole hemisphere during the evening hours. HAARP can't come close to producing this effect, even in the limited region directly over the site.

"Are these just quotes you made up?" Flint asked.

"Actually, no," the techie said. "They're available to the public at the HAARP website. They're very open about everything. HAARP isn't a classified project, so all their findings and schedules and everything are easily available on the Internet. I just googled it."

Gung-Ho frowned. "Wait. Does HAARP have the capability of heating the entire ionosphere if it's overpowered?"

The techie shrugged. "Well, the HAARP system has a total radiated power capability of 3600 kilowatts. I know that sounds like a lot of energy, but the _Flagg_ probably uses more energy than that just to putt around the Pacific. Besides, you also have to remember that the ionosphere is a huge thing, extending from 50 to 1000 kilometers in height. You could probably calculate the volume of the ionosphere – it would be a gigantic number – and then figure out how much energy it would take to superheat it. I don't think we have that kind of energy-producing capability right now.

"Also, the amount of energy needed to sustain that superheating would be immense. Space is ultimately a very cold place, and energy always strives to reach equilibrium. So, essentially, the ionosphere would need to be pumped full of energy to sustain the superheating. It's the cosmic equivalent of trying to heat the world by leaving your door open," the techie said.

"Then what do we tell Duke?" Gung-Ho asked.

The techie tossed him a flash drive. "I made you a B.S. PowerPoint for just such an occasion," she said. "Have fun."

* * *

A/N: There really is a HAARP facility in Gakona, Alaska. The frequently asked questions, from where I took my quotes, can be found at http://www dot haarp dot alaska dot (just put periods in the appropriate places.)


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

Dial Tone stared intently at the graph in front of her, trying to discern its meaning. The frustrating lack of labels and units made it difficult, but the complete absence of a title made her task nigh on impossible. Silently cursing Excel, Dial Tone called the New Mexico Radar Station for a little clarification on their amazingly confusing graph.

"Hi, this is Dial Tone in the U.S.S _Flagg_. I'm looking at the latest data you sent over, and you forgot to double label," Dial Tone said.

"Sorry. We sent it because there's a string of anomalies mid-stratosphere that looked kind of interesting."

"Ohmigosh! That totally helps me figure what Cobra's up to!" Dial Tone said. "They're-"

"Don't say it!" the radar station guy said. "That would actually inform our audience, and make this scene appear to be more than just a useless waste of time and animation!"

* * *

"Duke and Scarlett are prepping for pick up. What now?" Roadblock asked.

"We have to start putting the pieces together," Flint said.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," the Devil's Advocate said. "Any ideas on how?"

"We use our amazing communications knowledge," Flint said. "Now, how do you get information around at high speeds without using satellites?"

"Cell phones," the Devil's Advocate said. "They work on radio – which is below the ionosphere and we've already established works – and obviously, they're pretty efficient."

Flint frowned. "No, that's too simple. Other ideas?"

"Carrier pigeons?" suggested Roadblock.

"Smoke signals?" asked Gung-Ho.

"Semaphore," the Devil's Advocate said.

"Morse code."

"The Pony Express."

"Mirrors."

"Radio."

"Telephones."

"Dial-up Internet."

"Okay, okay!" Flint said, throwing up his hands. "I get it! There are still dozens of ways for them to communicate."

"What even funnier is that the original ARPANET was designed to withstand a crisis just like this one," the Devil's Advocate said. "We've actually been prepared for this for a very long time."

"Wait! I know how they're doing it," Dial Tone said, rushing in.

* * *

"Stratolites."

Dial Tone slapped a very artfully drawn blueprint down in front of an assortment of Joes. "These things are barely in prototype – so we thought. They're made out of super-tough thermoplastics."

"Thermoplastics…why thermoplastics?" the Devil's Advocate asked. "Because we need to make recyclable stratolites? So we can make them into Legos when this little crisis is over?"

"No, because it sounds cool," Dial Tone replied. "The actual properties of thermoplastics had very little to do with their choice as a material."

"I like your honesty," the Devil's Advocate said.

"Wait…how do these things work with the interference in the ionosphere?" Roadblock asked.

"Because they're way below the ionosphere!" Dial Tone said. "They've been working this whole time!"

"Wow, it's Captain Obvious's sidekick – Self-Evident Girl," the Devil's Advocate hissed.

"Hey, it's your cameo, Jaye!" Flint said. "Wave!"

"I don't have any lines," Jaye said. "Apparently, no one needs me."

"How could they not want you in this cartoon?" Flint said. "It's not like there are too many women hanging around or something."

Jaye shrugged, and Flint vowed to talk to the writers about this…there was no way Duke's girlfriend got a part and his didn't.

"Tunnel Rat, I know this is a little out of your field-"

"Who's talking?" Flint asked.

"I'm the prompter. It's your line," the prompter said.

"Oh. Uh, Tunnel Rat, I know this is a little out of your field-" Flint began.

"I'm so happy Sigma 6 is over that I'll do anything," Tunnel Rat said.

"Well, I guess that's settled, then," Flint said.

"Just a warning, Tunnel Rat…they have an anti-missile system," Dial Tone said.

"Of course. Of course we couldn't make this easy," Tunnel Rat said. "Give me an hour to put this together."

"Are you sure you don't need longer?" Flint asked.

"Nope. I'm so jazzed that I don't have to eat bugs anymore that I feel like a new man," Tunnel Rat replied. "Heck, I'll do it in fifteen minutes-"

"That won't be necessary," Flint said.

"Now, this is all well and good, but we still don't get our satellite coverage back," Tunnel Rat said.

"Conveniently, that was explained in the last chapter to save space," said Gung-Ho, walking up just as Tunnel Rat finished his sentence as to prevent any break in the action. "But, as it is, we have to go to Gakona, Alaska, and take back the HAARP facility."

"It's just one of those days, isn't it?" Roadblock asked.

"Word," the Devil's Advocate replied.

* * *

"Hello, geeks. Remember, the first one to talk gets treated to a fascinating conversation with the working end of my gun," Baroness said, strutting her way down a line of scientists.

"Baroness, walk this way," Destro said. "I simply can't keep my hands off you!"

"It's like we're ridiculous caricatures of ourselves," Baroness purred. "I mean, me wearing my half-dress, half-cat suit thing, and you and your animated mask and pimp jewelry…it's like the animators have stopped even trying to break new ground by this point."

"Remember, only 40 minutes until this is over," Destro said.

"Thank you for reminding me, darling," Baroness said. "You _know_ how we tend to lose track of the time."


	7. Chapter 7

Snake Eyes had wondered sometimes about the logic of building a dojo on a mountain. There was a definite lack of level real estate to be had, and a copiously large amount of stairs. Hard Master had explained to him once that it was tradition, and that without tradition their lives would be meaningless.

"In fact," Storm Shadow had said, "Our lives would be as shaky as…as a fiddler on the roof."

"Really?" Snake Eyes had asked.

"He's just quoting musicals again," Hard Master had replied. "I have no clue where he gets it from."

"You have to admit, you were asking for it. Besides, the fact that the quote can be reused hints at the obscenely traditional nature of this dojo," Storm Shadow had said.

"Explain yourself, Young Master," Hard Master had said.

"There's not much that can be done about the fact that we're in Japan, and really, it makes sense," Storm Shadow had observed. "However, the fact that we're on a mountain – which makes no sense, considering what a pain it would be to carry everything up and down these blasted stairs – is pretty overused. Also, why do we have our own private island? How do we get stuff out here? What do we do when someone gets injured? Do we have a road system? How much money do we devote to bringing stuff here? Do we have a ferry? There are many unanswered questions, most of which could be solved by moving this dojo to the mainland."

Hard Master had ended the conversation by telling them both to go run until they puked.

* * *

After ascending the endless flights of stairs, Snake Eyes finally came to a courtyard. For one tantalizing moment, the ninja fans held their collective breath. Was this the moment? Would Storm Shadow and Snake Eyes fight now?

A vague white figure appeared in the doorway. Yes! This was it! The fans looked at each other in appreciation. This was gonna be good, considering how _amazing_ the rest of the series had been.

Then, just as it seemed that there was going to be an epic fight scene, Snake Eyes flashed back.

* * *

"Ichi! Ni! San!"

Snake Eyes waved his sword around a little, counting in Japanese. In retrospect, if he'd known they would be some of the last words he would ever speak, he would've said something else. Maybe he would have sung something. But, alas, all he'd done was count.

"Hey, old man! Yes, I'm talking to you!" Storm Shadow sauntered out of formation, approaching Hard Master without an iota of respect.

"Storm Shadow, you should call me 'Sensei' in front of the other students," Hard Master said, his voice all benevolent and masterful.

"I'll call you what I want, old man," Storm Shadow said, pulling a nickel bag from his back pocket and kneeling on the hard cobbles of the courtyard. He pulled out a paper, and began to roll a fattie.

"Tommy, what are you doing?" Hard Master demanded.

"I'm delineating my evilness by doing drugs," Storm Shadow said.

"Cigarettes are legal, if unhealthy," Hard Master said.

"This ain't a regular cigarette, old man," Storm Shadow said.

"Also, how are you going to smoke through your mask?" Hard Master asked, conveniently ignoring Storm Shadow's last remark.

"I haven't actually started smoking yet," Storm Shadow said, yanking off his mask, lighting up, and taking a drag. "Ah. Much better. Anyway, I hear you've been tutoring my friend…what's his face…uh…"

"Never mind his name. Yes, I've been tutoring him. Listen, Tommy, you've been training since you could walk. Your friend came to us as an older child, and he needs a little help to keep up with you," Hard Master said, placing a fatherly arm around Storm Shadow's shoulders.

"B.S., old man!" Storm Shadow snarled. "I'm so evil that I reject your paternalistic wisdom! Just a second…" Storm Shadow took another pull of his joint. "Sorry, you got me a little worked up there," he said. "I need this stuff to keep me cool."

Hard Master frowned. "He's your best friend. Would you deny him aid?"

"Yes," Storm Shadow said, brow knitting again. "I would deny him aid, and kick him out of the dojo, and chain him to rocks where birds would eat out his liver. That's what I'd do."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a bad guy," he said.

"What happened to the kid whose biggest problem was a little excessive violence towards squirrels?" Hard Master asked.

Storm Shadow shrugged. "Apparently, it's edgier just to make me bad."

"No, that's just poor writing," Hard Master said. "That isn't edgy."

Storm Shadow shrugged. "Anywho, you haven't taught me the Seventh Step to the Sun yet, Pops. It's bringing me down, you know?"

"I haven't taught it to you because of your little violence problem," Hard Master said.

"What violence problem? WHAT VIOLENCE PROBLEM?!" Storm Shadow screamed. "WAIT A SECOND WHILE I SELF-MEDICATE!" Storm Shadow began to frantically puff on the joint. After a few moments of frantic hyperventilation, he seemed to calm down. "Where were we?"

"Your violence problem."

"I know I have a tendency that way," he admitted. "But I'm the greatest student of this school. I deserve to learn it. I want to know why you haven't taught it to me yet."

"Uh…" Hard Master thought a moment. As he tried to formulate a way to let his nephew down, a rabid fan yelled from the peanut gallery.

"Hard Master's trying to replace you with Snake Eyes because he's better at being a ninja than you!"

"When did they get here?" Storm Shadow asked.

"Don't listen to them. They're liars," Hard Master said. "Well, you see, um…"

"Shoot him!"

"Yeah, just pull out a gun and nail him one through the head!"

Storm Shadow turned to the fanboys. "Hey, if I give you twenty bucks, will you do it?"

"I don't have any weapons on me," admitted Rabid Fanboy #1.

"You suck at cosplaying," said Rabid Fanboy #2. "This one's for you, Stormy! You're my favorite Cobra!"

Pulling a rifle from his back, the fanboy (in an amazing stroke of luck) shot Hard Master through the head. After a moment, he turned to Snake Eyes and tried to repeat his success. Although he shot a little low, there was no denying that he had a future in a variety of fields involving firearms.

"I knew coming to Comic Con as Zartan was a good idea," said Rabid Fanboy #2, looking at his rifle fondly.

"I'm still trying to figure out how you convinced me to crossplay as Zarana," Rabid Fanboy #1said. "Come on, let's go get some food."

* * *

"Snake Eyes, your memory fails you," Storm Shadow said, shaking his head. "Marijuana _definitely_ isn't the Right Fuel."

_That's totally how it happened_, Snake Eyes protested.

"Not really. It happened more like this," Storm Shadow said, smiling. "It's _my_ turn for a flashback."

* * *

Storm Shadow sheathed his sword. Walking up to Hard Master, he practically kowtowed. "Uncle, may we speak?" he asked.

"No, you stupid turd," Hard Master replied. "You're supposed to call me 'Sensei' in front of the other students."

"I don't speak to you as a student," Storm Shadow said. "I'm here because I'd like to know why you're training Snake Eyes privately."

Hard Master shrugged. "That isn't that big of a deal, is it?"

"Well, it wasn't," Storm Shadow said. "But then, when you commanded me to bow whenever he entered a room, I felt it might be getting a little excessive. After the Technicolor Dreamcoat Incident, I thought it was time to talk to you."

Hard Master considered this for a moment. "Well, since I am showing some pretty obvious favoritism, I think I'll just guilt-trip you to disguise my actions. For heaven's sake, Tommy, he's your best friend, and you've been training since you could walk, and he needs help." Hard Master placed a fatherly arm around Storm Shadow's shoulder. "Do you deny him aid?"

"No, I just want to learn the Seventh Step to the Sun," Storm Shadow said.

"Oh. Well, unfortunately for you, I already taught it to Snake Eyes," Hard Master said.

"Why?" Storm Shadow asked, confused.

"Because I sense much fear in you," Hard Master said. "Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. And suffering leads to Cobra," Hard Master said.

"Why does that line seem familiar?" Storm Shadow asked.

"Because this entire scene bears an eerie similarity to Star Wars," Hard Master replied. "Anyway, where were we?"

"Uh…you said you had already taught Snakes the Seventh Step to the Sun," Storm Shadow said.

"Well, I taught you the Sixth Step, and that should be good enough for you," Hard Master said.

"But, you sort of promised me that you would teach it to me," Storm Shadow said.

Hard Master sighed. "Tommy, you are so impatient. It's just kids these days, I guess, with their cell phones and their myPods and their fancy-schmancy electric cars and 4G networks and Spacebooks and MyFaces."

Storm Shadow tried to interrupt, but Hard Master continued. "When I was a boy, there were no cell phones. If we wanted to talk to a friend, we had to row a rowboat – uphill both ways, mind you – to the mainland, see a man about a horse, ride the horse to the friend's feudal castle, and then get back without being killed by rogue samurai."

"How old _are_ you?" Storm Shadow asked. "I mean, I always assumed you were maybe 60 at the oldest…"

"When 900 years you reach, look as good you may not," Hard Master replied.

"Stop purloining lines from Yoda," Storm Shadow said.

"Fine," Hard Master said poutily.

"And back to the topic at hand. Uncle, you are forcing me to be blunt," Storm Shadow said. "Like you said, you're…old. Not 900 years old, maybe, but certainly getting a little up there. It's not unreasonable to teach me the Seventh Step as a form of security."

"Come on, Tommy, everyone knows that if I taught you the Seventh Step all you'd do is use it to impress girls and get in bar fights," Hard Master said. "See, the reason I taught it to Snake Eyes the Seventh Step is that I know he'll hardly ever use it. To him, violence is a burden. To you, it is lighter than air."

Storm Shadow sighed. "Okay, that does it. I quit. I've been scouted for some really good jobs recently, and there's no reason why I should stay here and take your abuse."

He ripped off his mask, letting it float from his fingers. _It's a symbol_, he thought. _My shackles, floating away…_

Then, in the space of about four seconds, the following events occurred:

Snake Eyes broke ranks and began running toward Hard Master.

Zartan shot Hard Master.

Zartan, in some remarkable burst of skill, shot Snake Eyes in the throat.

Snake Eyes ran towards Hard Master's body, screaming 'Ben! Old Ben! Don't be dead!'

Storm Shadow could only stare in shock. He was still staring when Zartan came up, rifle casually slung over his shoulder.

"Hey, Storm Shadow. Fancy seeing you here," he said.

"Zartan…did you do this?" he asked.

"You bet I did. Fine piece of work, wouldn't you say?"

"No. No, I wouldn't," Storm Shadow said, voice brittle and annoyed.

"I sense your annoyance," Zartan said.

"Could we stop the _Star Wars_ now? Please?"

"No."

Storm Shadow scowled. "Okay, would you like to enlighten me on precisely _why_ you did this?"

"The Commander said to follow you here and take care of whatever was stopping you from coming to Cobra full time," Zartan explained. "I think I guessed right."

* * *

_So, which version is correct?_ Snake Eyes asked.

"I suppose they both have a grain of truth in them," Storm Shadow replied. "The point is for the reader to decide for themselves."

Snake Eyes sighed. _I swear you're playing with my mind._

"Well, lucky for you, brother, all games end today," Storm Shadow said, grinning.


End file.
